


Bad partners.

by jellyfic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff I guess, M/M, YamaKen - Freeform, a lot of useless details too, badminton au, badminton partners, idk - Freeform, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfic/pseuds/jellyfic
Summary: “Ah, sorry Kenma,” He answered, wincing. “It’s just that you never ask anyone to play with you.”“Yeah, well, i need a partner.” Kenma grumbled, looking at the ceiling while his cheeks slightly turned pink. “And you’re the only one good enough to beat me here, so…”—or Kenma and Yamaguchi play badminton and Kenma needs a partner to play a double match at a competition.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70





	Bad partners.

**Author's Note:**

> prompt idea from Sara! 
> 
> Please, note that i wrote this at inavouable time of the night. It’s a fic i wrote to get myself out of writer’s block, so it’s just me and my love for badminton, writing my comfort ship. You’re warned. Also, no beta. You’ll be able to see how rusty my english actually is. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, i guess!

“It’s a double matches competition Kenma.”

Kenma looked at his coach, glaring at him through squinted eyes. But the man remained unphased as he crossed his arms, waiting for a proper answer. 

“Then, I don’t want to do it.”

The coach sighed, shaking his head. “You know you have to play at least one team competition each year.”

Kenma ignored him, focusing back into putting his shoes on, taking way more time than usual. 

“You really are insufferable. You better come to me with a partner at the end of the week or you’ll hear from me.”

Kenma finished tying his shoes a bit more violently than intended, clearly upset about his coach’s orders, though he knew the elder wasn’t wrong. But he hated playing doubles. He was a single player. 

Standing up, he started warming up, running around the gym lazily, wanting nothing else than just be able to hold the racket in his hand and throw all his frustration onto the shuttlecock. 

And in less time than it takes to say it, Kenma was moving around the court, heart beating fast and muscles operating with only sheer reflexes and skills. Hair tied loosely, he didn’t mind the locks sticking to his face and ignored his muscles screaming for help. All he knew was the frustration of having to choose a partner. 

He didn’t do doubles. He couldn’t. It requested too much bounding. He had to be in synch with his partner, have to silently communicate, to rely himself on someone. He couldn’t do that. He was fine playing badminton by himself, knowing he could cover all the zones alone. 

He growled as he lost his third rally in a raw, positioning himself again. But as he didn’t hear the sound of the serve, he finally focused on the person playing against him. Yamaguchi was looking at him intently, ready to serve, but immobile. Kenma sighed. Yamaguchi smiled. 

“Oh, someone got back into the real world.” He teased, finally serving. “Whatever got you mad, don’t use it as a motivation to play. You suck when you’re not focused on the right thing.” 

Kenma huffed, returning the shot with a bit more force than intended, sending the shuttlecock out of the court. He glared at Yamaguchi as if it was his fault. “And you call yourself a friend.” 

His opponent just shrugged, turning the racket between his hands. “Just trying to help.” 

Kenma sighed. “Coach want me to find a partner.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I just can’t be- What are you laughing for?” Kenma’s vexed voice echoed, only making his friend’s laugh louder. 

“Sorry,” Yamaguchi said, sounding not sorry at all. “It’s just- last time you teamed up with someone, coach asked for your disqualification.”

Kenma groaned, giving up on gravity and collapsing. “Don’t remind it to me.” Yamaguchi approached him, passing under the net to sit down next to him. After a few seconds of silence, Kenma tilted his head to the side, looking at his friend. “Do you want to team up with me?” 

Yamaguchi immediately turned to him, brows up, eyes wide. Kenma looked away, embarrassed. “No need to look this surprised.”

“Ah, sorry Kenma,” He answered, wincing. “It’s just that you never ask anyone to play with you.” 

“Yeah, well, i need a partner.” Kenma grumbled, looking at the ceiling while his cheeks slightly turned pink. “And you’re the only one good enough to beat me here, so…”

Yamaguchi’s smile reached his ears as he chirped happily. “Thank you, Kenma.” He pulled his tongue out. “that was almost a good compliment.”

“Shut up. So?” He asked again, finally looking back to his friend, only to see him grimacing, gaze apologetic. His heart sank. 

“Hinata already asked me to play with him for this competition… Maybe next time?”

“There won’t be next time. I don’t do doubles.” He grunted, sitting up. 

Yamaguchi only laughed, standing up to offer Kenma a hand. “You know there will be. Now come on before coach get mad.”

He took his friend’s hand, begrudgingly standing up. If all he wanted a few minutes earlier was to evacuate his frustration on the court, all he wanted now was to lay down until his life would stop being unfair. 

And Yamaguchi sensed it. He sighed, shaking his head. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Five sets. If you win, I’ll play with you.” 

And it was all Kenma needed to be motivated again. He didn’t like pairing up to play badminton, but he knew coach would pair him with a random guy if he wouldn’t come with a partner in four days. And if there was something he hated more that having to play doubles, it was having to play doubles with someone he didn’t know. 

So Yamaguchi’s little dare really teased his pride and hope. 

And so he played. 

And of course, he won. 3-2. 

—

He would lie if he said choosing a friend to partner with made everything easier. He had always played singles, so learning how to play doubles wasn’t a piece of cake. It was actually the contrary. 

“The last four one were for me.” Yamaguchi stated, breath erratic but tone calm. The only proof of his frustration was his furrowed brows. “I know how to play Kenma, give me some space to do it.”

It took all his effort not to throw his racket away and storm out. Instead, Kenma growled, nodding. The thing is he knows Yamaguchi can play. He’s even extremely good at it. It’s just that he’s having a hard time sharing. He knows how tiring it can be sometimes, and he wants to alleviate a burden off Yamaguchi’s shoulders, all while being sure to lead them into victory.

“You should change your positions.” Suga’s voice arrived to his ears from the other side of the court where he and Hinata were as tired as them. But at least, they won. 

Kenma refrained himself from spitting out a mean remark, waiting for him to continue. 

“Yamaguchi should be more in the forecourt, Kenma would have less difficulties knowing which shot is his.” Suga shrugged their confused expression off and continued. “It’s just an advice. You shouldn’t always play in this position too, try to stay side to side rather than in front or behind each other.”

Kenma nodded, taking in the advice. As he positioned himself back, he noticed Yamaguchi extended hand. He looked up to his friend, only to see him already focused on the next set. He couldn’t help the small smirk on his lips as he clapped his hand into his friend’s. 

—

Kenma was tired. They had been playing for nearly four hours now, training against the best doubles of their club. And they lost against almost every one of them. He was growing frustrated, annoyed and didn't even know if he wanted to continue until he was satisfied or if he should just stop and go home. 

The last option was very tempting, but he didn’t have time for that. He had to get better, had to level up with his partner or they would lose the competition too soon. He wasn’t delusional to the point he was believing they could win, but still, he wanted to play the longer they could. 

“We should stop.” Yamaguchi’s trembled voice came from behind him as a hand settled itself on his shoulder. 

Kenma was about to contest, but truly, he lacked the strength. Instead, he grunted, nodding slightly. He quickly turned heels to head to his bag, ready to take off his shoes and take the way home. 

“Wait,” Yamaguchi interrupted. Kenma turned around to look at him, one brow raised. But his friend’s gaze was locked on his leg. “Come here, I should check this.” 

Kenma frowned, looking down, surprised to see puffy marks on his skin, red and flesh. It wasn’t the first time his leg would end up like that though, he even saw worse, as he made himself bleed once. He just hadn’t thought he hurt himself that much today. 

It was an old habit of his. Terrible habit, he knew that. But when he would make mistakes while playing, when he would lose, he would convey all his frustration into hitting his leg with the edge of his racket. It was unintentional, he didn’t even notice it, but it helped him focus. 

“It’s okay, it’s nothing-”

“Kenma,” Yamaguchi countered, voice firmer. “Let me see this.” 

Kenma refrained himself from rolling his eyes as he sat down, Yamaguchi kneeling next to him. “You really should stop doing this to yourself.” 

“I don’t notice it.” He shrugged.

“Still. It’s painful and useless.” Yamaguchi raised his gaze, locking his eyes with Kenma’s. The latter held his breath, feeling his heart miss a beat. “I am serious. The marks don’t even have the time to heal anymore.” Kenma winced. “Please, take care of you.”

Under Yamaguchi’s piercing look, Kenma could do nothing else than nod, silently promising to do his best. 

—

“Your long serves are useless in doubles Tadashi.” Kenma stated, clapping their hand together in support. “They really are a huge weapon in singles, but you shouldn’t use it here.”

Yamaguchi winced, swiping off the sweat running on his temple. “I can’t do short serves.” 

“You’ll have to learn. I’ll teach you after practice.” 

“We don’t have enough time for this, Kenma. The competition is in two weeks. I can’t do it.” 

“Really, for someone that bold when it comes to teasing, you surely belittle yourself a lot.” Kenma blurted out, a bit annoyed. Because clearly, if someone could learn how to do short serves in two weeks, it was Yamaguchi. 

“You give me too much credits.” The freckled boy countered, averting his gaze. 

Kenma snatched Yamaguchi’s water bottle out of his hand. “You literally are a pain in the ass sometimes. Would you really think you would be here if you weren’t talented? That coach would have agreed with you competing? That we would make Bokuto and Kuroo of all people suffer during a match when they’ve been playing together for years while we started three weeks ago?” He found himself at loss for breath, Yamaguchi’s eyes locked on his, surprise evident in his gaze. 

It’s only when he noticed how red his friend’s cheeks were that Kenma realized how sappy his little speech was. Blushing from head to toe, he turned around, taking his racket and shoving back the bottle against Yamaguchi’s chest. 

“Anyway. We don’t have time for this bullshit. Let’s play.” 

“Kenma?” Yamaguchi interrupted, making him turn around. If Kenma was still flustered by his speech, his friend’s sincere smile killed him right on the spot. “Thank you.” 

—

It was an atmosphere Kenma would never get tired of. Entering a gym already full, sound of shoes brushing the floor, rackets hitting shuttlecocks, and people encouraging each other. He could even recognize a gym’s smell, inebriating him with a familiar feeling; being home. 

It was a feeling he knew extremely well. The one of looking at the opponent’s moves, anticipating the next shot while planning his. The one of moving around the court, arms extended, flexed, muscles relaxed. The perfect weight of the racket in his hand and the exact sound he expect it to make when it meets the shuttlecock. 

It was familiar. 

What was new though, was the presence next to him and the number of people facing him on the court. What was new was the loud silence, the quiet understanding between him and the player next to him, the claps, hands in hands after every point, no matter if it was a loss or a win. What was new was Yamaguchi, fighting as a partner alongside him. 

And as he stood straight next to his friend while they both received the bronze medal, he couldn’t help but think he liked these new feelings. 

Kenma hated doubles. He played singles. Well, at least, until he find his right partner. 

Kozume and Yamaguchi, world double badminton champions. 


End file.
